


Insanity Squared: a headcanon

by Thelostwanderer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bellatrix being Bellatrix, F/F, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Magical Creatures, Soulmates, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:01:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21995683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thelostwanderer/pseuds/Thelostwanderer
Summary: A collection of short interconnected stories set in the universe of "Sing To Me Your Insanity" written by ClumsyDreamer. If you haven't read that fic yet, drop everything you're doing and go read it right now, it's incredibly good. It's the losing-the-concept-of-time-and-reading-it-until-dawn kind of good. It's the story-lives-on-in-your-head-and-you-have-to-write-your-headcanon-fanfic-just-to-get-over-it level of good. Seriously go read it, I'd be very sad if I ended up spoiling it for you.I am not associated with "Sing To Me Your Insanity" author, so the "official" story may and probably will contradict what I'm writing here. And that's perfectly fine, it's just my headcanon.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Comments: 6
Kudos: 69





	1. Dear Harry, Dear Ron

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ClumsyDreamer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClumsyDreamer/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Sing To Me Your Insanity](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7027303) by [ClumsyDreamer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClumsyDreamer/pseuds/ClumsyDreamer). 



Temporal position: A long time after chapter 43 - "Ruined Plans and Ruined Pants"

Harry was sitting at his desk in his small office at the Ministry of Magic. His eyes were focused on several bits of paper sprawled across the clean wooden surface. He didn't rise his head when the familiar sound of rushed footsteps reached his ears, nor did his concentration lapse when the sound grew louder and his office door was suddenly opened.

"Is she...?", a breathless voice started.

"She's alive, Ron", Harry answered with a steady voice. "As far as I can tell."

"But is she alright?" Ron inquired.

Harry shrugged, finally rising his eyes to greet his friend. He gestured towards the papers on his desk.

"Take a look yourself."

Ron sat down in the chair on the opposite side of the desk, and immediately started reading the letter that Harry pushed toward him. It said:

Dear Harry, Dear Ron.

I hope you are well. Actually, I was so relieved to hear that you both survived, that I can't express it with words. I saw you falling into the ocean and didn't know anything until Bellatrix told me. I'm so sorry for what happened at the Ministry, that you had to fight her, that she was throwing the killing curse at you. It all went so wrong, and because of suppression I just didn't have any good way to make her stop.

I'm fine. I really am. Bella took me to a secret place. I'm well fed, I'm not in pain, I have my wand and I'm not being kept here against my will. I know this may be difficult for you to accept, but to come with her is something I've decided on my own. I thought about this long and hard, I really did. There are just so many reasons why it's better this way. I didn't want to hide from her for the rest of my life. I didn't want to have you, my friends, risk your lives trying to protect me from her, and last but not least, I didn't want her to be all alone.

Do you remember back when we were out there looking for Horcruxes? How we managed to piece together the story of Tom Riddle? How we discovered that he was not some embodiment of evil, but rather a product of his past? Well, Bellatrix doesn't exist in vacuum either. I'm not trying to make excuses for her. She did some monstrous, unforgivable things in the past. However, given some love and acceptance, she has a potential to become a much greater person. I just know this, okay? From all those days that I spent "surviving" her, I just know this.

I have therefore decided to make it my project to repatriate Bella into the society, and I'm going to work towards this end. It's not nearly as impossible as you may think.

I will write more if we can deliver these without being traced. Please don't try to find us. I really am fine. We both are.

Love,

Hermione

"Love and acceptance?!" Ron couldn't be more shocked.

Harry was morbid. "It's the Stockholm Syndrome, Ron. We should've noticed it back in the Ministry. She was showing all the signs."

"Is this whatever syndrome some muggle invention?"

Harry sighed.

"A long time ago the muggles discovered that some victims of kidnapping can begin to sympathise with their kidnappers. They may interfere with their rescue, or even help their oppressors achieve their goals."

Ron's expression was blank.

"It's a psychological thing", Harry added.

"Well, I don't know much about this psycho-logic, Harry, but look at this word here."

He pointed at the letter.

"A 'project'. Bellatrix is now her 'project'. How does that make any sense? Does she think Lestrange is like a house elf?"

"Hermione certainly has a big heart", Harry agreed. "No doubt Bellatrix sees it as a weakness that she can take advantage of."

"Of course this letter wouldn't have reached us if Bellatrix didn't like its content", Ron observed. "For all we know, she could've written the whole thing herself!"

"Even the part about Riddle? But you are right, she did write us something". Harry pushed another piece of paper towards Ron. "This one is from her."

Ron's eyes widened as he glanced at the letter. The whole first line was crossed out.

"To us? I don't think I want to read it", he complained, but his eyes were already scanning the elegantly calligraphed letters.

You indolent cretins! (this part was struck out)

Hermione says I am not to call her "friends" "indolent cretins", but we all know that you well deserve it. This girl is too nice and forgiving for her own good. (And now she has tenacity to tell me how to write my letters!) You call yourselves her "friends", but you're definitely not acting like ones. You've always taken her for granted. Her ideas, her knowledge, her dedication, her preparedness. You sorry lot would never have defeated the Dark Lord without her help! She handed you victory on a silver plate, and then you just left her to be all alone and sad and lonely.

Oh, but when I appeared in her life, then you suddenly remembered about her. So much effort protecting the poor thing from scary evil Bellatrix. Did you ask if she wanted to be protected, or just assumed that she had to be? Same with the collar. Did anyone ask her if she wanted to be suppressed? Of course not, it was decided by a committee, for her own good! Little people with little brains in their little heads having a little chat in their little room, deciding things they don't understand!

Your "friend" has chosen me over you, and that should make you think, Harry and Ronald. Unlike you, I actually care for what she wants, what she needs, what she dreams of. It truly escapes me why would she even associate herself with the likes of you. She's so bright for her age, looks divine when dressed properly, her song could move mountains, and best of all, she chose to be here with me, and not there with you. The next time you meet her, you will truly comprehend how beneath her you are!

Our current plan is to get rid of this hideous collar, and then we're going to sing our hearts out. There is nothing you can do to stop us!

Laughing at your failures,

Bellatrix Black

P.S. I'm writing these words while enjoying Hermione's loving embrace. Jealous, Ronald?

Ron made a face as if he'd just eaten something awful.

"That's Bellatrix all-right", he said.

"She's threatening to sing, Ron. Not what you'd usually expect from her."

Ron scratched the back his head

"Hermione did quite a lot of singing in the Ministry, and it almost got her out of that collar thing."

Harry gestured at Bellatrix's letter. "This is all so spiteful and exaggerated, but I think we really did drop the ball on the suppression business."

Ron angled his head as Harry continued.

"We were so preoccupied with the threat of Bellatrix, that we didn't consider the situation from Hermione's perspective. The Ministry made the decision for her, practically bullied her into accepting it, and they didn't back down when she changed her mind."

"And then she was acting all angry and beside herself", Ron remembered.

"We stood with the Ministry on this one, while we should've been standing with Hermione. This is what Bellatrix is accusing us of".

Ron couldn't disagree more.

"We did the right thing. That... creature would have Hermione walk towards her death. She'd just blindly follow everything Bellatrix told her. Yes, it was ugly, but there really was no other choice."

Harry looked unconvinced.

"Don't fret over it, Harry. Lestrange always acts like she's better than everyone else, and look here." Ron pointed at another part of the letter. "Now she wants Hermione to be like her, to consider herself above us."

Harry pushed his glasses to his forehead.

"I don't think there's much chance of that happening. However, Bellatrix makes her true intention quite clear in this part."

The other auror looked at him questioningly.

"She wants to estrange Hermione to us, Ron. She wants to make her think that we're not good friends, that we abandoned her. It's like a battle over Hermione's mind, and it seems that we're losing it."

"But Hermione is strong, Harry. She won't let Bellatrix inside her head that easily. Remember what she told us after we rescued her? She was not getting chummy with Lestrange, she was _surviving_ her. I'm sure that's exactly what she's doing right now, even if her Bellatrix-approved letter says otherwise."

Harry looked sullen.

"There is one more thing, Ron. A photograph."

It was lying face-down in the corner of the desk. Ron lifted it carefully as if it might burn him, and then suddenly dropped it as if it did.

The picture portrayed two elegantly clad women, seen from aside. The one on the right was unmistakably Hermione, the one one left was definitely Bellatrix. Hermione's hand was cupping Bellatrix's cheek, as if with concern. Below, the older witch's arms were reaching out towards the other's hips, the expression of pure joy looking so out of place on her face. The characters were perfectly still as it was a muggle photograph.

"It's a fake!", Ron shouted. "They're not even moving! It can't be true! Hermione doesn't dress like that, doesn't make eyes like that, and she doesn't..." he waved his hands in the air.

Harry nodded in understanding.

"I know what you mean."

He gestured over items on his desk.

"I'm going to drop these by the investigations branch, maybe they can learn something from them. We really are desperate for clues right now, and from what we've seen today, I believe that time is working against us."


	2. Red goes well with black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellatrix and Hermione find an unlikely distraction from their constant arguments.

Temporal position: Some time after chapter 44 - "Fed Up" (the one in which they realized they were out of time), long before "Dear Harry, Dear Ron"

"Seriously, Bellatrix? Of all things you are criticizing _my_ dressing style?"

"Yes! Why do you insist on wearing those hideous clothes?"

"They are comfortable! I like them! Why do you even care?"

"You are a witch! Yet, you dress like a muggle. And you wonder why people are calling you names!"

"It's been just you throwing slurs at me, Bellatrix! Literally no one else does that!"

"Case in point." The older witch raised her chin.

"And now you're saying that I was asking for it? With the way I dress? Do you have any idea how brain-dead stupid your argument is?!"

"You didn't even try to answer my question!"

"Do you have _any_ idea what kind of..." Hermione paused as she felt Bellatrix put her hands on her shoulders.

"Hey." Bellatrix took the chance to interject "We're arguing again and we were supposed not to."

Hermione was fuming.

"Well, if you didn't start by criticizing my style..."

"Hermione!"

"...and then used that incredibly stupid argument..."

"Hermione."

"...a witch of your wisdom to not get the logical fallacy..."

"Hermione!"

"What?!", she snapped.

Bellatrix was struggling to keep her own anger under control. Her relationship with Hermione was not improving at all for the past couple of days, and knowing that they were running out of time, she was determined to make some progress.

Hermione was now waiting for her to speak. She chose her words carefully.

"This came out all wrong. Will you let me start over?"

Hermione was glaring at her, but nodded after a brief moment.

"I have a lot of spare clothes here, and some of them may fit you. I thought you could choose something for yourself."

"To replace the clothes that I like?"

"So that you have more options when you dress up."

Hermione sighted. She was tired, really tired of arguing with the other witch. She decided to humor her odd request. It's not like she was really committing to anything.

"Fine, let's take a look."

******

Hermione was following Bellatrix as they walked.

"You know, you should have started with this and not with that other thing you said."

"Is it my fault that you get upset at everything I say?" The older witch shrugged. 

"It's because of the things that you say! Merlin, Bellatrix, do you ever think before you speak?"

"Poor precious snowflake got told off by mean old Bellatrix.", she taunted.

"And now we're doing it again! This is hopeless!"

Bellatrix suddenly stopped and spun around on the balls of her feet. Hermione could see her smirk.

"I say offensive words and you wear offensive clothes. Aren't we just _made_ for each other?" She laughed.

Then she turned her back to the younger witch and moved on.

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh and followed.

******

Much to nobody's surprise, the wardrobe mostly consisted of elegant, corseted dresses. Not all of them however were Bellatrix's signature black. Hermione was rather overwhelmed by the sheer size of the room: it was as if she walked into a clothes store.

"Of course", thought Hermione, "Coming from a _noble_ house, such excess would only seem natural to her."

She quickly grew tired of trying on the dresses that Bellatrix kept bringing her. Most of them didn't fit her well, and out of those few that did, neither was particularly comfortable nor really her style. Yet, she did put several pieces aside, as to avoid upsetting the other witch.

It was not like she was being particularly picky, Hermione reasoned. It was just that a corseted dress hardly screams comfort, and while Hermione did admit that they looked pretty good on Bellatrix, she couldn't really imagine such style working out for herself.

Unnerved, she retreated to the far side of the wardrobe, meaning to see how far it went. It turned out that the room wasn't as big as she initially thought and soon she found herself facing a wall. A speck of red caught her eye and suddenly she was drawn to a crimson dress that was tucked away in a corner.

As she was giving it a closer look, she heard Bellatrix walking up to her.

"Ah, this one takes me back. It's from my Hogwarts days", she said absentmindedly.

Hermione blinked. Bellatrix has never seemed like a sentimental type to her, especially not someone to keep a favorite dress from her school days. A dress that somehow seemed to be in prime condition despite its apparent age. She raised her eyes to the older witch, who was now smirking at her.

"Try it on. I think it will fit you", she said, and promptly turned her back on her.

******

Hermione looked at herself in the mirror. The dress was dark crimson red, modestly cut, with thin straps that went over her otherwise bare arms. The top part was hugging her silhouette rather closely, but not uncomfortably so, while the skirt seemed to just flow all the way to her ankles. There was a corset on the back, but the lace was missing. Yet, somehow the material still clung to her comfortably, perhaps helped by a charm of some kind. Overall the dress was rather on the modest side, but it wouldn't look completely out of place on a ball either.

Hermione traced the fine cloth with her hand, slightly discontent that it was previously worn by Bellatrix. She imaged the witch walking up the staircase at Hogwarts, dressed in crimson red, glaring at someone in anger. No, wait, she thought. Students wear robes at school, not dresses. In that case, what was this dress for? Not for the ball, she decided. The Black family would certainly have their eldest daughter wear something more lavish. Maybe she wore it for some less official outings? Or perhaps when spending time with her sisters?

Her thoughts were interrupted by Bellatrix approaching her with a lace ribbon matching the crimson red of her dress.

"I'll lace you up", she offered.

Hermione was about to politely decline, but the death eater was already standing behind her and lacing the corset with the ribbon. The younger witch settled on observing their reflection in the mirror. Focused on her task, Bellatrix worked with gentle, but skillful movements. Hermione felt soft tugs of the material on her back. Apt fingers occasionally glanced her bare skin. The feeling of breath on her neck almost gave her goosebumps. Looking at the reflection of her own face, the witch was seeing the beginnings of a blush. "This is bad", she thought.

Meanwhile, Bellatrix was done with the loops, and was about to start tightening.

"Take a deep breath and hold it", she instructed.

She was now readjusting the loops so that the dress would hug the younger witch gently, and not tightly. While doing so, she suddenly couldn't help but notice their closeness. How she could almost feel the other girl's heartbeat under her fingers, how sweetly was the soft material following Hermione's figure. She stopped herself from tracing it with her hand and tried to focus. Was she seeing goosebumps on the girl's neck? "This is bad", she thought.

And then it was done. Hermione was breathing again as Bellatrix tied the rest of the ribbon in an elegant bow, resting just above the girl's bottom. Not trusting herself with the sight anymore, she moved so that she was standing next to the younger witch. They looked at themselves in the mirror. There was a moment of awkward silence.

"We look as if we were going out", observed Hermione.

It was certainly true. Bellatrix was clad in her signature black dress, and standing next to each other with matching styles, they looked almost picturesque.

That gave Bellatrix an idea. She snapped her fingers, and a house elf materialized in the room.

"Nimmy, I'd like you to take some pictures of Hermione and me."

To which, the elf's head struck the floor.

"Nimmy is extremely sorry!, the creature cried out. "Nimmy has misplaced mistress' camera somewhere among mistress' belongings. Please don't punish Nimmy too hard!"

Internally, Bellatrix rolled her eyes. However, Hermione was watching and therefore, for the sake of them both, the older witch needed to act as if she cared.

She crouched next to the wretched creature, but was looking at her own feet when addressing it.

"Just go and look for the camera. We are not in a rush."

"Mistress is merciful!" The elf cried out and disappeared.

Bellatrix stood up, her eyes still glued to the floor. Her control of herself already weakened, she really didn't want to see the other girl's reaction to her out of character treatment of the elf.

"I haven't used the camera for years." she tried to justify herself. "No wonder it..."

Mate. Look.

Her siren was trying to point something out about the other girl, but Bellatrix's gaze was still stubbornly glued to the floor.

She tried to control her breath. She only had to endure for a moment, she thought. When that cursed elf shows up with the camera, then posing for pictures will certainly distract her mind from that warm feeling of... a hand cupping her cheek?

There was concern in Hermione's eyes.

"Are you okay? You are muttering."

She needed to answer, yet her mind was only giving her the wrong words to say. She needed something not spiteful, something not angry, anything.

"Red goes well with black, doesn't it?" She blurted out.

There was a moment of silence.

The girl in red was now smiling at her warmly.

"Yes, it does."

This very moment was Bellatrix's undoing. It wasn't the Siren pushing her from the inside, it wasn't the look of concern in the younger girl's eyes. The girl who could've been anywhere doing anything, but was instead right here with her playing dress-up. It also wasn't the way the crimson dress suddenly seemed to be cut much lower than Bellatrix remembered, and not the way Hermione's hips, gently hugged by the soft metarial, were practically begging to be embraced.

It was the sudden realization of all those things that made the death-eater to suddenly forget her high-born status, her Dark Lord's ideology, and the pivotal role the girl in front of her played in defeating him.

She reached out for those hips, while Hermione's lips were oh so slowly closing to meet her own.

Then they heard the sound of an elf apparating, followed by the flash of a camera.

The moment was gone, but the mood lingered, as they halfheartedly posed for the pictures.

******

Hermione was blushing heavily, while Bellatrix struggled to keep her face steady. They were standing in the dining room, looking at pictures that were spread on the table. In half of them, the crimson-clad and the black-haired witch were making out with shameless abandon. In the other half of pictures, they were about to start.

"The wizarding world camera captures not only image, but also emotion", explained Hermione to no one in particular.

Bellatrix said nothing.

"You know", Hermione started, "It's funny how we didn't actually..."

She paused at the sensation of arms wrapping themselves around her. There was a forehead touching hers.

"You have no idea", whispered the other witch, "how much I hate myself for enjoying this. For getting all swept up by these... feelings. And of all the people in the world, it just had to be a filthy mudblood!"

Bellatrix regretted these words the moment they left her lips. There, she said it. She had let herself relax for just a moment, and then that one voice slipped through. That one treacherous voice that absolutely needed to stay silent when she was with her girl. For the good of both of them.

And now Hermione's soft features were creasing into a frown, her arms pulling away from the embrace, her mouth opening. Nothing good will come out of it, Bellatrix decided, so she closed it with her own lips.

Hermione was shocked.

Then she tried to struggle.

And soon found herself relaxing into Bellatrix's embrace.

"Well, that shut her up", the older witch thought triumphantly, almost smiling into the kiss.

Good. Good. You are learning.

Her siren was praising her. That certainly was new. Maybe their situation wasn't so hopeless after all?

They continued doing what they saw in the pictures.

******

After that Bellatrix made sure that the crimson red dress was always prominently displayed in Hermione's wardrobe, should she choose to wear it. She often did.


	3. Misalliance of the century

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A newspaper article, one side of a phone call, and a taste of the possible future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Thank you for your likes and all the fantastic feedback. Most of all, a big thank you to ClumsyDreamer, whom we all love and admire, and who created the "Sirenverse" in the first place.
> 
> This chapter shows us a glimpse of the very far future. Of course, I don't know if any of this is actually going to happen in the original story, it is all just my own conjecture and wishful thinking. A wild fantasy, or a headcanon - if you will.
> 
> This is a single-chapter leap into the future. Chapter 4 will take us back to the story behind the Hermione and Bella's letters.

# THE DAILY PROPHET

#### "The Golden Girl" elopes with "Voldemort's Right Hand" in

## MISALLIANCE OF THE CENTURY

In a move defying all logic and sanity, Hermione Granger, known for her pivotal role in defeating Voldemort, has married Bellatrix Black (née Lestrange), her twice kidnapper, torturer, and the very dark lords's most trusted lieutenant.

The ill-fated female couple was sworn into marriage during a secret ceremony held in a secluded place. Invited were only family members and closest friends. Among them were: aurors Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, the muggleborn bride's parents Wendell and Monica Granger, the other bride's sisters Narcissa Malfoy (née Black) and Andromeda Tonks (née Black).

Presumed dead after the Battle of Hogwarts, Bellatrix Black has emerged soon after, earning multiple charges of kidnapping and murder to her name. These charges, in addition to nearly all of those that she had earned during The Second Wizarding War, have since been dropped in extremely dubious circumstances (as pointed out by our editorials at the time).

In an uncommon gesture, before being sworn, both brides drank what was claimed to be Veritaserum and love potion antidote, but could've been colored water instead. They were also supposedly dispelled from any known mind-altering enchantments by Harry Potter, who was obviously "in" on the whole charade.

Present at the wedding was The Daily Prophet's special correspondent Rita Skeeter (abbv. RS), who managed to secure an exclusive interview with some of the guests:

RS: Mr. Potter, the woman standing nearby is a hated war criminal, a murderer, a kidnapper, the most dangerous and deadliest of the infamous death-eaters. A woman who brought unimaginable suffering onto the world, the scores of her victims including the very woman she is about to take for wife, your own good friend and love interest, Hermione Granger. Why are you not arresting her?

HARRY POTTER (speaking through gritted teeth): As was evidenced at her trial, Ms. Black was neither in her right mind, nor in charge of her actions at the time when those crimes were committed. She was cleared of most charges, and has done her penance on those that she was found guilty of. As far as the law is concerned, Bellatrix Black is a free woman.

RS: Mr. Weasley, do you agree with this statement?

RONALD WEASLEY: Yes.

RS: But do you agree with the spirit of it? It is rumored that you were in relationship with Ms. Granger during the war, and the two of you were planning to get married afterwards. Is there any truth to these rumors? Are you content with her being snatched away by a death-eater and a woman?

RONALD WEASLEY (through tears): No comment.

At this moment, Harry Potter broke down in tears.

RS: Mrs. Tonks, Bellatrix Black has killed both your husband Edward as well as your daughter Nymphadora. How can you stand here sharing drinks with her?

ANDROMEDA TONKS: We all know that Bella was under mind of control of Voldemort. It is he who murdered my family, and the fact that he had done so with the hands of my own sister is but a testament to his twisted cruelty.

RS: With the mind control claim being widely disputed even now, are you absolutely sure that she doesn't share any blame for their deaths?

ANDROMEDA TONKS: Absolutely sure. I used to count Bella among those that I lost to the dark lord, and I was very happy to regain her at least. She is a wonderful sister and I'm sure she'll be a good wife.

RS: It is well known that during her trial your sister was wrongly classified as a magical creature, which helped her to unfairly avoid some of the charges. Do you know what kind of creature she is? Have you ever seen any evidence of her being one?

ANDROMEDA TONKS: No comment.

RS: Mrs. Malfoy, does it not bother you that your sister of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black is about to marry not only a muggleborn, but also a woman? Isn't such an act considered the greatest treason among the noble houses? Does such move bode well for the future of the Sacred Twenty-Eight?

NARCISSA MALFOY: Bella is free to marry whomever she wants, and for as long as she is happy with her choice, she will always have my support. As for the rest - no comment.

RS: Is it true that your husband does not approve of this marriage? Is it the reason why he didn't come with you to the wedding? Does he even know that you are here?

NARCISSA MALFOY (covering her face): Again, no comment.

RS: Mr. Granger, knowing the nature of Bellatrix Black, are you not afraid for your daughter's life?

WENDELL GRANGER: Madame reporter. No matter whether wizard or muggle, we are all ultimately human, and it is human to make mistakes. We can either dwell on these mistakes, or instead work hard to try and make up for them. Bellatrix that we know has long overshadowed her dark past. She is the kindest, the most caring woman that we know, and we've seen enough evidence to be certain that she loves our Hermione very much.

MONICA GRANGER: We'd like to take this chance to extend our greetings to all witches and wizards. We hope that our two worlds will forever remain at peace.

RS: Ms. Black, would you care to explain why, after already inflicting so much suffering onto this world, must you also ruin the life of this poor girl? Shouldn't you be marrying someone of your own blood status instead? Like Rudolphus Lestrange, for example?

BELLATRIX BLACK: Wait, Hermione, I want to answer... Voldemort is dead, and his philosophy died with him. Things like blood purity are of little importance in the modern world. It doesn't matter that Hermione is muggleborn, or a woman. All that matters is that we managed to find each other in this world, to fall in love despite all the odds against us. You see, after [the Battle of] Hogwarts I was left alone to die in a forest. Everyone who knew I was still alive wanted to see me dead or worse. Except this one girl, she saw me for what I truly am, understood my true nature. She fought for me tooth and nail even though I gave her every reason not to. It is only thanks to her that I'm able to stand here, in front of my beloved sisters, in front of my friends, and say my vows to the love of my life. I love you, Hermione.

RS: Hermione Granger, or shall I say Hermione Black, congratulations. If I may interrupt this... very touching moment with your soon-to-be wife... From your disposition it is very clear that you're either out of your mind or in need of rescue. Is there anything we can do to help you, poor child?

HERMIONE GRANGER (tears running down her cheeks): _Revelio!_ Rita (expl.) Skeeter! Security! Get this woman out of here!

All in all, we have witnessed a young innocent girl, once known as the brightest witch of her age, fall into murderous arms of a malevolent death eater, all under uncaring eyes of the law enforcement officials who had all the power, but still did nothing to stop her. This, dear readers, the word "insanity" does not even begin to describe. Will the Ministry and the Aurors keep allowing this war criminal to do as she pleases? Who will be her next victim? Isn't it high time for someone to do something about this?

Footnote: The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black is considered extinct since the death of Sirius Black in 1996. He was killed by none other than his own cousin, Bellatrix Black.

********

The newspaper was left lying on a table in a large room adorned with a fireplace. A black-haired woman was wandering around at leisurely pace. She was holding a strange box-like device by her ear, and was apparently talking to it.

"... yes, I've just read it... and the interview too... she was attacking me so much, and everyone defended me... I was very touched... thank you so much...

... oh, Hermione was _livid_. I haven't seen her so angry since... yes... and during the night too... she was _accio_ ing bugs from the ceiling!... yes, she's an animagus... a beetle... Hermione says she can tell by looking up close... it was our special night together and she was looking at bugs!... completely ruined it for me!... I don't know, a special report from the wedding night?!... I wouldn't put it beneath that woman!

... we thought she was Emma!... Emma Squiggle!... Yes, they disguised her. She was so nice and smiling... of course she can take pictures, of course she can talk to guests... you know what they'd write if we said no...

... polyjuice potion, I think... it was her quill! Hermione revealed it and it turned all green... bright green, just like... of course we could tell from her questions alone...

... they changed the words. Hermione's dad actually said 'Madam Squiggle', they changed it to 'Madam reporter'... of course the article got their names wrong... no, their fake Australian names... Hermione made them up when...

... honestly... I'm growing tired of that woman's antics... how can she still work for the Prophet after being called out so many times?... and that scandal with the biography too... Well, perhaps _someone should do something about it!_...

... No, it didn't affect me _that_ much... our bond is much stronger than any kind of marriage. For me this wasn't much more than formality, much overdue... Yes, Hermione is younger, she thinks differently... oh you know how she is, she really wanted everything to go well... 

... no, maybe we'll plot something after our honeymoon... no... definitely can't let that woman get away with this... poor Hermione...

... actually, we're having a small get-together just before we leave... Saturday evening, are you coming?... yes, just us and the Grangers... Cissy too, I just spoke with her... 

... not very well, actually... Lucius didn't like what she said in the interview... the entire tone of that wretched article... really?... then they should blame the paper for printing it and not us for saying it!...

... honestly, why should we even... yes, exactly...

... see you on Saturday then?... great!...

... I love you too. See you soon."

Having finished her conversation, the woman placed the device on the table, next to the paper, and was now walking up to the fireplace. On top of it there was a framed photograph depicting the three Black sisters. The picture appeared to be a recent reenactment of their old portrait that was a part of the Black family tree tapestry at Grimmauld Place. The sisters posed in a similar way, and wore similar clothes. They were however no longer children but adult women.

She took the frame from its place on the top of the fireplace and held it in both hands.

"If ten years ago you told me that we'd just be talking normally like this..."

She trailed off, holding the photograph against her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading.
> 
> BELLATRIX: Hermione...  
> HERMIONE: This one looks like her.  
> BELLATRIX: Hermione, look at me!  
> HERMIONE: Antennas are all curly.  
> BELLATRIX: HERMIONE!!!
> 
> Not mine, but Rita Skeeter is actually just a misunderstood fanfic writer whose headcanon has vastly diverged from the source material, and who suffered a mental breakdown after learning that her favorite ship (Harry/Hermione) had no chance of ever sailing :(


	4. All that matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellatrix has the best idea ever. Hermione disagrees.

"No, Bellatrix! No! Absolutely not!"

"What's the matter, Hermione? Don't you want your _friends_ to find out about our newfound... whatever is this thing we're having?"

They were sitting in the dining room of the undersea house. Bellatrix was holding a magical photograph in her outstretched hand. The picture depicted the two of them engaged in rather passionate kiss.

"Our 'trying to avoid getting killed by our sirens' thing?", asked Hermione. "I don't mind telling them, but this...", she cursed herself for blushing as she pointed at the photograph, "this is just _vulgar_ ".

"That's why I think it's perfect", the older witch argued. "Imagine the look on the weasel's face! It will be even better than when I kissed you right in front of him!"

"But it's so... immature! It seems like something a first-year at Hogwarts would do."

"Aren't you tempted? Not even a little?", Bellatrix smiled mischievously.

The younger witch sighted. "Besides, we can't send them a magic picture. What if they somehow get these... characters to talk? To betray information? To...", she trailed, seeing a hint of anger in the other witch's eyes.

"Her-mio-ne.", Bellatrix enunciated every syllable, as if addressing a preschooler. "You are confusing photograph magic with portrait magic. They can't get the picture to talk, not unless we enchant it to do so."

The younger witch crossed her arms. "Even if so, it's _my_ letter and _I_ decide what goes with it. We _don't_ mail them the picture."

Bellatrix raised her eyebrow. "Oh? So if it was _my_ letter...", she trailed off and reached for a piece of parchment. She dipped her quill in ink with theatrical gesture, and started writing.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Seriously, Bellatrix? Seriously?! Are you really going to do this?!"

"Yes!", the older witch exclaimed, pausing her work. "They made a serious mistake, and now you are here with me and not there with them. I want to rub it in. Hard. I want the weasel to see this", she pointed at the picture, "in his nightmares!"

Hermione sighted and sat down next to the witch, catching glimpse of calligraphed letters. "That's not even how you start a letter!", she cried.

Bellatrix's icy gaze could freeze the sun. "I'm tired of your complaining and I'm tired of your negativity", she said quietly. "If you can't say anything else then at least be silent."

The younger witch's eyes fell to the floor. "Please don't call them _indolent cretins_. They are my best friends. I know that you hate them and that they are... terribly uninformed, but they really mean well."

Bellatrix continued to work in silence without acknowledging what the other witch had said. They sat in silence for a moment. Then Hermione spoke again.

"And with the picture... I don't mind showing them, but I'm really concerned they'll learn something from it and use it to find us... then we'd get separated, and you'd have to rescue me again, and we just don't have time for this."

" _Rescue_ ", Bellatrix snickered. " _Rescue_ my poor girl from the clutches of evil Aurors."

"You know", Hermione continued unfazed, "what has always bothered me about magic pictures is that when you have your picture taken, the camera doesn't see what's directly behind you. And yet the background is clearly there when your character starts to move. I think there's more information in these things than meets the eye. If the muggle police has entire departments dedicated to extracting clues from pictures, wouldn't the Aurors have something like that too?"

"Very interesting", said Bellatrix in a tone implying that it was anything but. "What do you want to do? Send them a _muggle_ picture?"

Hermione nodded, even though the other witch wasn't looking at her. "Honestly, I'd feel much safer this way."

There was no response. The sound of scribbling once again filled the room. After a moment, Hermione continued.

"Maybe if we take a muggle camera, and use it to take a picture of this picture..."

She was interrupted by an exasperated sigh.

"Honestly, _Granger_ , such ignorance..." She met the girl's questioning gaze. "We have the negatives! We can... _you_ can develop them with _muggle_ solution and you'll get _muggle_ pictures for your abhorrent collection of _muggle_ things. Disgusting!"

"And then we pick one to send with the letter?", Hermione inquired.

"The letters", Bellatrix corrected. "Take a look", she pointed at the parchment.

The younger witch read the letter.

"Uh...", she started, "I'm not sure how I feel about this... ". It was actually quite nice, exceptionally nice for Bellatrix. "What are you playing at?"

"Expected something else? Of course you did."

Hermione was silent.

"Can I read yours?"

"What? No!"

"Why not? I let you read mine."

Hermione felt angry at herself for allowing the older witch to manipulate her so easily. She handed over her piece of parchment.

*******

Bellatrix was angry.

"This again!? This part about getting me all better? Haven't we talked about this already?!"

"Yes, we did..."

"Then why this?!", she threw the parchment at the floor.

"I want _them_ to think you can be fixed. If they believe it, they'll be more likely to help us."

"You'd deceive your friends for my sake? Do you really think I'm going to believe this!?"

"For our sake, Bellatrix! For _our_ sake! We are stuck here between death, insanity _and_ the sirens. We keep shouting at each other even though we know where it leads! If there is anything they can do for us, then we will take it! And it's not like you haven't changed since we first..."

She was thrown violently from the chair, her back hit the floor, and there was a wand jabbing at her chest. Bellatrix sat on top of her.

"Have I?", she snarled, "Or maybe I just got better at suffering your sorry excuse... for a..." Her eyes were now rapidly shifting between black and amber.

Was it due to a momentary slip of suppression, or perhaps by sheer strength of the siren reaching out to her, Hermione was able to catch a glimpse of the other woman's soul, and understood what she was trying to do.

She reached out and her hands landed on the witch's arms.

"Let her say it. She needs to say it. I want to hear it. Please", she whispered.

The eyes settled at being onyx black.

" _Crucio!_ "

Regretting her decision to intervene, Hermione braced herself for irrepressible wave of... soft tingling sensation? She opened her eyes in surprise.

"This is how much I hate you right now.", Bellatrix said. 

She shook off the younger girl's arms, and without breaking the curse she helped her to a sitting position. Their faces were now close.

Hermione felt a sudden, brief jolt of pain as the other's free arm wrapped itself around her hips.

"You felt that?", Bellatrix asked. "There will always be a part of me that hates you, that wants to see you suffer, that will insist on you being inferior, no matter what that _cursed_ siren tells me. Do you accept it too? Do you?!"

Then Hermione did something incredibly stupid. She wrapped her arms around the other woman's neck and pulled her closer for a kiss.

There was a brief moment of searing pain, strong enough to make her want to break off, but it subsided quickly. Then it came back again even stronger, but faded even sooner. She held on to the woman she was kissing and rode it all out. It was - as she would later admit - pure insanity.

Eventually, only the tingling was left, and it was starting to feel more nuanced. Hermione almost gasped at the realization: Bellatrix was trying to convey her own feelings through the curse. Pain meant anger and hate. That slight tingling at the back of her head was fear. And the complete lack of any unpleasant sensation whatsoever - that must've been love.

Her siren practically purred with happiness as they sat there kissing and taking in the mess of emotions in their mate's heart. All that they wanted, all that they needed, all that was taken away from them by suppression. It was there. Yes, a crude representation, twisted by the Cruciatus curse, a mere shadow on the wall. Yet, it was there, it was real, and it was _theirs_.

Hermione gently grabbed the other witch's hand, the one that was holding the wand. She broke the kiss just long enough to whisper

"I accept it. All of it. Maybe in the future we can make it better, maybe not. Right now, this is who you are and it's all that matters."

Bellatrix broke the curse and pulled back a little.

"It would've been much easier if you didn't", she complained, and then sighted.

She considered the mess of emotions that she felt, the one that she so skillfully conveyed to her girl. One day she will have to face it and sort it all out.

But not today.

Without saying a word she stood up, returned to her chair, and resumed writing. She felt the girl's curious gaze, and surprised herself by giving her a slight smile. She then felt an arm closing around her hip. "Yes", she thought, "that mess definitely needs to be sorted out soon". For now, she just made herself smile again, as she was writing the other half of her letter. She finished it with a well practiced signature.

"This is all so sweet, Bellatrix. Possessive and arrogant, but so sweet. Do you really mean it?"

The older witch stared at her coldly.

"Why ask if you already know the answer? Unless you weren't paying attention... Ah. One more thing."

She set out to write the post scriptum, with Hermione still looking over her arm.

"What? No, don't write it! Haha, poor Ron...", she giggled.

*******

"Bellatrix, I can't go out like this. This dress has no sleeves!"

"And why is that problem?"

"Have you forgotten already?"

Hermione turned and Bellatrix's eyes widened at the sight of the familiar scar.

"Oh."

"You really did forget! How could you..."

"Yes, we'll have to do something about this later... For now, why don't you wear a blouse under your dress?"

"A blouse _underneath_ the dress?", Hermione gave her a very disoriented look.

"Yes! It's a very old style, and I don't see it ever becoming popular again, but I think it might suit you."

After a brief moment, Hermione was standing in front of a mirror.

"I have very conflicting feelings about this."

"Tell me about it."

*******

After relatively long period of isolation from the outside world, Bellatrix and Hermione were now preparing for their return, albeit a very brief one, if everything went to plan. Their first errand was a rather simple one - mail their letters, in addition to several other sealed envelopes, the nature of which Bellatrix refused to explain.

The world they were about to step out to was however a hostile place that was not prepared to see them together. They were even hardly prepared to go out together: one with mess in her heart and in her mind, the other with cold steel around her neck. Yet, Hermione was certain that all of their problems will eventually be resolved, if only they face them one at a time. For now, a carefully prepared plan, and a collection of wards and charms they placed on each other had to suffice.

"Once more", Bellatrix said.

"We stick to the plan, we work with purpose", Hermione recited. "We don't loiter at the scene, we try not to kill anyone..." (She was proud of having insisted on this rule) "We disapparate at the first sign of trouble, and most of all...", she held the other woman's hand, "we don't split up."

Bellatrix embraced her.

"Let's go."

They disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Not my best work in all honesty, I'll try to do better on the next one. Hopefully, it still gave you something to pass the time with, while we're all eagerly waiting to see what will happen... in THE BONE GARDEN!
> 
> My following chapter will be a short story unrelated to the letters or to the current events of the main fic. It may not come out for a while since I'm about to come back to work after my winter holiday :(
> 
> Special thanks to ClumsyDreamer for creating these wonderful characters and their setting.
> 
> *******
> 
> BELLATRIX: I don't see this style ever becoming popular again.  
> MEANWHILE IN JAPAN...
> 
> *******
> 
> BELLATRIX: We'll need a nice blouse to go under the dress. Then, a cute print dress with wide skirt, petticoat for the fluff, and of course an oversized bow for your hair...  
> HERMIONE: Please just kill me instead.


End file.
